


Thief

by wallhaditcoming



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Magic, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 08:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallhaditcoming/pseuds/wallhaditcoming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik takes steps to defend his most valued treasure from would-be-thieves.  There is only one man who is allowed to steal from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PippinPips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PippinPips/gifts).



> Happy belated birthday pips! I hope you enjoy it, for all that it is short.

They call him the Merchant of Death and the Stealer of Souls and the Shadow King, because there is nothing in the seedy darkness of the world’s underbelly that escapes his notice. Still, in his heart of hearts, he has always been and always shall be a thief.

Like most thieves, Erik knows value. Erik enjoys valuable things. So, when he happens upon something valuable, he does what any thief does to earn it – he steals it. Erik’s collection has grown as he has, but one treasure stands head and shoulder above the rest, cherished above all others.

The trouble is, Erik is not the only one to see value in this particular treasure. Someone, he knows, wants to take it for themselves, to try and steal it from him.

A thief’s mindset is simple: you only deserve what you have if you can keep it.

Erik intends to keep this treasure, or die trying.

Of course, there are a number of other deaths that will occur before he allows it to come to that.

The guards, for all they are numerous, are easy to evade, and climbs the wall with the ease of long practice. The door to the balcony he wants is locked, but his magic’s affinity for metal takes care of that in a matter of moments, and Erik slips into the home of the would-be thief. He lies flat across the top of the four-poster bed, well out of sight of the door, and settles down to wait.

His quarry enters, accompanied by a bevy of servants, but Erik bides his time. The message he intends to deliver will be the most effective without an audience.

The help departs one by one, and only once the last has gone does Erik drop down to the floor, decades of practice making his landing noiseless. He settles back against one of the four posts, eyes fixed on his target’s back as he waits to be noticed.

It doesn’t take long. Finished with her nightly ritual of washing her face, she turns and, catching sight of him, freezes, eye blown wide with fear. Erik allows himself a smirk at that. And why shouldn’t he? It only serves to make her more afraid, which is exactly what he is after.

“I take it you know who I am?” he says, keeping his voice low and level, his face as expressionless as possible.

She nods, trembling.

Erik remains silent, allowing the silence to build between them and the fear to build in her. Only when the trembling has turned to shacking has turned to shudders does he break the silence.

“I’m not here to kill you,” he tells her. “Not this time,” he amends, careful to keep the ghost of a grin off his face and the growl out of his voice.

She stays silent, completely still save the shudders, petrified with fear.

Good.

“Do you know why I am here?” he asks, and pulls one of the many knives he has about his person out, handling it with a careless ease that he knows demonstrates his mastery and comfort with the blade.

She eventually musters up the courage to shake her head in denial, eyes fixed on the weapon in his hands.

“Your current pursuits. Your business tonight. It would be in your best interest to end it. Now,” the last word is a low growl.

Her brow furrows in confusion, but she has sense enough not to ask any questions.

“If you continue to conduct this business,” he growled, stalking closer until he was towering above her, “I will pay you another visit. And if you see me again,” he said, bringing the knife up to press it gently against her throat as tears spilled from her eyes, “I will be the last thing you see. Understand?”

She nods, tears streaming down her face, and Erik pulls the knife away before swiftly retreating to the balcony.

“This is your one warning,” he tells her as he stands perched on the stone railing. 

He launches himself across the gap to the neighboring balcony. His work here is still not complete, and it is only a matter of time before she collects herself enough to summon the guards. He must work quickly to secure his treasure.

It is the work of a moment to pick the lock on the door, though by hand this time. Magic here will reveal his presence before he is ready. His caution is for naught however. The brief flare of cold as he breaches the threshold can only be a ward.

He rushes the figure whose back is to the balcony, unwilling to wait for discovery. He pins the man to the wall with ease and stares down at him, prepared to take any steps necessary to protect what is rightfully his.

Erik bends down and, thief that he is, steals a kiss.

“Charles,” he purrs when he finally pulls away.

“Erik,” Charles replied, tugging one hand out of Erik’s grasp to wrap it around his waist. “What are you doing here?” he asks before making answering impossible by pressing his lips to Erik’s own.

“I heard whispers of your master’s attempts to betroth you,” Erik replies a great deal of time later. “And I felt the need to ensure they remained only whispers.”

“Erik...”

“Until such a time as you can say no yourself, I shall simply have to say it for you.”

Charles is bound by both duty and magic to the mage’s guild. Until he turns twenty-five and passes his examinations, his remains his master’s ward in the eyes of law, and thus subject to his master’s promises on his behalf.

“You didn’t kill the poor girl, did you?”

“No. Not this time. But I will if she continues to pursue what is mine. The life expectancy of anyone who is betrothed to you who is not me will be very, very short. Only one person can steal from me, and none of them meet the criteria.”

“Good,” Charles replies, tone harsh at the mention of other thieves.

Erik has stolen many things from Charles over the years. Seven years ago while stealing from Charles’ merchant stepfather, he stole the sixteen-year-olds first kiss on a whim. He’s stolen many more since, as well as Charles’ time, and, eventually, his heart, the treasure Erik values above all others.

By traditional conventions, Charles is an even better thief than Erik. Charles stole Erik’s heart long before Erik began plotting the theft of Charles’. That Erik didn’t even notice says much about his skill in this area.

“I could steal your contract,” Erik whispers before he presses his lips to Charles’ neck. There are only two years left, but Erik isn’t sure he can take two years of scaring away potential suitors.

“We don’t know where it is,” Charles says with a sigh.

“I could just burn down the magician’s library” Erik offers. That would certainly solve the problem.

Charles steely glare informs him that it isn’t an option.

Erik sighs. For all that he is a thief, he is tired of having to steal his time with Charles. Still, two years patience is a small price compared to what he is willing to pay for a lifetime with the man he loves. He can wait.

“How long do we have?” Charles asks, fingers tracing along Erik’s back.

“Not long,” Erik replies. “An hour, if she collects her wits quickly.”

“We’d best make the most of it then,” Charles replies. “Take me to bed, My Merchant.”

“With pleasure, My Thief.”


End file.
